


(24. Dizzy) / Catch me if you can

by Mothfluff



Series: GO-ctober Prompts 2019 [24]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Flying, Gen, October Prompt Challenge, One Word Prompts, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 12:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfluff/pseuds/Mothfluff
Summary: My attempts at an October Challenge, using the original Inktober prompts for drabbles.(Each prompt will be posted as part of a series, not chapters, so I can add tags/characters/ratings/trigger warnings for each instead of the whole she-bang)Prompt 24 - DizzyBefore he could properly look down, a swirl of black and red and iridescent colours already rushed past him up into the sky, the sound of raucous laughter trailing behind.“Crowley, will you stop for a second!” He yelled after him as he saw him dive down again. The demon seemed to halt time for a second as he passed him, only to grin at him some more.“If you want me to stop, you'll have to catch me. This is too good.”And with that, he fell down the cliffside again.Aziraphale got up, brushed grass and stains alike from his knees, and huffed. Fine. If a chase was what he wanted, he would get it.He took a few steps back, collected his wits and a deep breath, and jogged forward until the edge of the field disappeared under his feet and he was airborne.





	(24. Dizzy) / Catch me if you can

They'd been driving for quite some time now, the usual heart-stopping tumble up and down small country roads that left Aziraphale grabbing onto whatever he could find. The demon hadn't told him where they were going, had only asked if he was interested in a 'day out', so he was quite confused when they stopped at a small carpark leading to nowhere in particular.

A field of grass stretched out before them, empty and desolate. Stepping out of the car, Aziraphale felt the wind rush through his hair, and saw it a bit more dramatically on Crowley's head, red strands almost obscuring his glasses.

“Not that I'm complaining, dear-” he said as they trudged a bit down the field, away from the car, and further into the windswept nothing, “but why exactly did you want to come here?”

“I really needed to stretch a bit.”

“What-” Aziraphale wanted to inquire further, but was silenced by the sudden appearance of black feathers obscuring his view.

He could count the number of times he'd seen Crowley's wings completely unfurled on one hand, and they never ceased to take his breath away. There was a difference between the small shape they took on when he manifested them at their home, asking for (or rather hinting at) a preening, and their true wingspan completely spread out. Neither of them were bound to specific shapes – their bodies could change, and so could their wings, conforming to whatever size they needed – but he'd seen human-bodied angels in full flight, and even they could not come close to the glorious black wings he was currently staring at as Crowley flapped them once, twice, cracking his neck with a quite joyful look on his face.

“Crowley!” He finally managed, not looking quite as happy. “What are you- someone could see!”

“No one around for miles, angel.” Crowley grinned. “That's why we needed to go so far. C'mon, get them out. Don't you feel cramped too?”

Aziraphale paused. It was hard to admit, but the demon was right, he barely needed to tempt him. Even when hidden from view in some ethereal plane not of their understanding, he could feel his wings constantly bumping against edges, pulling close, muscles and bones feeling stiffer each day. The small outings in the cottage weren't of much help, even though he quite enjoyed them (mostly because Crowley could not keep his hands to himself whenever he saw Aziraphale's wings).

He sighed, closed his eyes and let his shoulders drop, and felt the soft whoosh of another set of wings joining Crowley's in this realm.

Crowley let out a complimentary whistle. “Looking good there, angel.”

“Thank you.” He replied, all prim and proper, before a small grin pulled on his lips too. “I have a very good preener.”

“That you do.”

“I'm afraid all his hard work is for nothing, though, considering how windy it is here.”

He turned, nonetheless, in the direction of the wind, eyes closed, spread his wings even further, felt the air rush through his feathers. What a glorious feeling.

He'd barely opened his eyes again before noticing Crowley had wandered on, even further down the field, to where the wind was strongest. He could smell the sea as he followed him.

“Crowley, where are you- oh.”

They came to a stop at the very edge of the cliffs the field edged onto. A quick glance below revealed crashing waves between sharp rocks, a few seagulls swooping in and out before dashing back off to sea.

“You're not thinking of-”

Apparently he wasn't supposed to end a sentence today, as Crowley already turned to him with that bastardly grin again, and jumped.

“Crowley!” He fell to his knees to look far down over the edge – cream coloured pants stained with grass all but forgotten. This was far too dangerous. If he twisted just the wrong way, if he misjudged a current, if a sudden gust of wind caught him from somewhere, he'd...

Before he could properly look down, a swirl of black and red and iridescent colours already rushed past him up into the sky, the sound of raucous laughter trailing behind.

“Crowley, will you stop for a second!” He yelled after him as he saw him dive down again. The demon seemed to halt time for a second as he passed him, only to grin at him some more.

“If you want me to stop, you'll have to catch me. This is too good.”

And with that, he fell down the cliffside again.

Aziraphale got up, brushed grass and stains alike from his knees, and huffed. Fine. If a chase was what he wanted, he would get it.

He took a few steps back, collected his wits and a deep breath, and jogged forward until the edge of the field disappeared under his feet and he was airborne.

The rush of wind around his head become stronger with each foot he pushed forward. This was different from flying in heaven, where air and wind conformed more to the angel's will than the other way around. Here, it was a fight between powers, a test of strength and mind, flapping once or twice, searching for the right current to glide, all the while looking out for the endless wall of stone on one side, the endless expanse of deep sea on the other, spotting a small spot of black wings inbetween.

Aziraphale could feel his heart racing. What a glorious feeling.

He'd almost caught up to the demon when he noticed the angel, letting out another laugh.

“Come and catch me!” Crowley yelled again before twisting up, taking a turn, flying past just above Aziraphale. He could feel their primaries brushing for just a second before he was gone again.

Aziraphale took another deep breath, angled his body just so, and pursued.

A few more turns, sinking several feet once, roaring another few upwards, catching sight of Crowley's face once or twice, always with that silly grin, rarely so joyful – Aziraphale couldn't tell how much time they'd spent chasing each other along the cliffs now before going past them, further up in the sky. He'd almost forgotten he was actually planning to catch the blessed demon.

Crowley had not, it seemed, throwing a quick look back at Aziraphale. He appeared to slow down, whether intentionally or not, so Aziraphale could almost reach the tips of his wings – a quick push, a hurried flap, and he was off again.

“Oh no, you don't.” Aziraphale mumbled to himself, wind picking up around him, and with one more push himself he was at the demon's side, wings almost colliding, grabbing onto his jacket.

“Got you!” He shouted before realising he'd ignored the current for just one second-

they twisted, spiralled, wings knocking together, the wind coming from all directions. Seconds, and the ground came closer, Crowley twisted them up, Aziraphale pulled against him, and they slammed along the field, throwing up patches of grass all around them.

Whether by miracle or good reaction, he wasn't sure, but neither of them was particularly hurt apart from a few scratches. He dropped down onto his back, wings spreading on the cool grass, just as Crowley sat up next to him and laughed again.

“Lord, Crowley, you are-” He covered his eyes and sighed. “My head is spinning. I feel dizzy.”

“Feels good, eh?”

The voice was much closer now, and as he pulled away his hands, he came face to face with Crowley leaning over him. Instead of an answer, he pulled him down for a kiss. What a glorious feeling.

They stayed there for what seemed a little eternity. Aziraphale's heart was still racing, even as Crowley laid half atop of it. His wings spread over them, a canopy as dark as the night, and mottled with iridescent spots just as much as the stars sprinkled through the sky. The wind barely blew past them in their cocoon of feathers. A beautiful sight. Aziraphale never understood why he hid his wings for so long. Then again, maybe he hadn't – maybe Aziraphale had just never seen them.

“Do you do this often? Go out to stretch?”

“Mh. Every few centuries, I'd say. Not many places where you can really spread out. Even fewer where you can fly.”

“Mostly dangerous spots, I'd guess.”

“That's half the fun!” He got another one of those bright grins, a twinkle in uncovered golden eyes. “Though not as fun as chasing around an angel, if I'm completely honest.”

“I'm pretty sure _I_ was chasing _you_, dear.”

Crowley only hummed before resting his head against Aziraphale's shoulder again.

“I don't think I've flown in ages.” Aziraphale scratched through the demon's hair, all snagged up and messy from the wind. “During my last annual report Upstairs, maybe.”

“Mh.” Crowley snuggled closer. “It might be the one thing I miss.”

“It's different here, though. On Earth, I mean. With the winds and such.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I prefer it.”

He could feel the demon's smile – not a grin anymore – against his neck. “You're a pretty good flyer, angel. Didn't expect that.”

“Did you expect me to dash against the rocks, then?”

Crowley sat up again to look at him. “Honestly? I didn't expect you to fly at all. Thought you were gonna rant at me about being careless, and silly, and all that. Like you usually do. All prim and proper. Guess I underestimated you again.”

Aziraphale blushed, just a tiny bit. “To be honest myself... I was going to catch you to reprimand you. At first.”

Crowley barked out another laugh before stroking down the ruffled coverts of the white wings stretched out under them. “Your wings are a mess, angel.”

“And whose fault is that?!”

“I suppose mine aren't looking any better.” He flapped his wings once, the wind rushing into their little safe sphere for just a second. Barely a feather out of place.

“Well, I'd say there's nothing left to do but to sort them out back at home.” Aziraphale smiled up at him. He was never going to ask for it outright, of course.

“Well.” The smile was returned. “If you're offering it like _that_.”


End file.
